


Couldn't Stop Us From Singing

by bladeCleaner



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Gen, karouke shenanigans, musical!Abel, sing alongs are the best every other au is irrelevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeCleaner/pseuds/bladeCleaner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel after dark; there's little to look forward to and smile about, these days. Ed thinks Abel needs a reminder of what it's like to be happy. A bonfire is lit and everyone is moved to sing; their voices ringing throughout the township, people leaning out of windows to join in. A little musical interlude, spoilers up to m6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couldn't Stop Us From Singing

Abel was always quiet in the evenings. Day swept over them with reports, upcoming missions, Jack and Eugene bickering over the radio, Sam and Janine locked again in argument, the never-ending sound of the gates being raised. But there was one rule that prevailed in Abel. Unless lives were at stake(and usually, they were), no missions were to be run once the sun had set. Flashlights were indeed aplenty for emergency missions(say, that fire at Brunswick), but unless lives were at stake, no missions. Running around in the woods at night was a sure-fire way to either die or go zom.

Luckily, no settlement had gone up in flames that night. It was a crisp night, a first in a while, and every non-runner was just feeling the bouts of stir-crazy a little bit more than usual. You could see dozens of people just milling about, talking in murmurs, wandering aimlessly in and out of the quad. Person after person trickled in to receive their dinner at the PM booth, people passing around can-openers and steel spoons. It was a Tuesday, so it was beans and tuna.

Sam, Eugene and Jack were holding their cans in hand, the lids open, leaning on the side of the PM booth as they watched a few of the runners fall in together, the hospital staff behind them. Janine and Runner 8 were dead last, looking tight-lipped as usual.

"A jar of Marmite," Sam stated seriously, bring Eugene out of his observational stupor.

"You'd trade a jar of your precious Marmite for a hot bath?" Jack gasped, feigning as if he was about to faint. Sam shoved him lightly on the shoulder, taking care not to bump Eugene.

"Oh come off it, Jack, you know you would give up plenty of things for a hot bath too," he replied, laughing. "Even Maxine looked pretty jealous of Runner 5 when I told her. Not that I blame her."

"Hey!" a voice came from behind them. They wheeled around.

Sam waved to the tall figure. "Hi, Ed," he said, while behind him Eugene went, "Is that the guy with the motorcycle?" and Jack shushed him.

Ed grinned, black hair all tossed in a mop, standing at 6"1. "Hey, guys, could you help me set this stuff up?" in his arms was a pile of wood and logs, yet he looked barely strained.

"Whoa, where did you get all that firewood?" Eugene inquired.

Ed shrugged, passing a bit of the load to Jack, who took it with a bit of an "Oof!" and a fake-I-can-do-it smile. "Runner 4 and I were just out on a decoy run today-we had to hole up in an abandoned house for a while when the zombies were too much. I went into the basement and turns out the family loved their fireplace, maintained it like crazy-it's been pretty cold for spring and I know the heaters aren't to be used until late autumn at best, so I thought, why not? The house was pretty near Abel. I ran it past Sam and he said, well, if you two can carry the load along with your other supplies-luckily runner 5 and runner 6 were in the vicinity."

Janine approached them with can in hand. "I authorized Mr. Morrison to have his little... _fire hazard_ in the farmhouse yard so that I can monitor it in case things get out of hand. May I remind you that it can only be of a certain size, Mr. Morrison, so as to not attract hostiles-"

"I think we got it, Janine," Sam cut in, looking like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes, thank you for the generosity," Ed added, looking like he was resisting the urge to laugh.

"Well! Carry on then, gentlemen," she said briskly, walking away with Sara up into the farmhouse.

Ed raised an eyebrow at Sam. "I'm new here, so-"

Sam waved a dismissive hand. "You learn to get used to her. Sort of. I'm still learning."

He shrugged. "I was going to say, so I don't really know where the quad is."

Sam flushed. "Oh. Er, it's right behind you-I know it's blocked by the farmhouse, but once you get around it you'll see the grass and open space."

Eugene whispered, "Smooth, Sam, smooth," while Sam shot him a dirty look.

They carried the firewood over to the quad, to the spot in front of the well. Sam took some stones and put them in a circle, flattening the grass. Ed assembled the firewood into a small pile and tossed in a lit match before they could say anything-the flames licking upward from within. The fire looked weak and dim, but it was a fire. Sam, Eugene and Jack sat on the grass surrounding it, watching the flames flicker upward for a while before languidly lying down next to each other, looking up at the stars. Ed had stolen away to go find Molly.

"D'you remember that guy with the marshmallows?" Jack asked Eugene, lazily.

"Oh god, don't remind me right after we just ate, Jack!" Eugene swatted at him.

"Just saying, if you're hungry for s'mores..." Jack quipped, laughing as Eugene pretended to puke.

People, hearing them laugh, talk, watching the fire, began to trickle in slowly. At first it was just the people who'd been standing in line for their food, but then the wandering walkers around Abel sat down behind them as well, the three of them beginning the whole spiral of people milling on the grass. Janine and Sara looked out their window with a shock-at least half the town was out there on the field, the sound of talking and the scraping of spoons against steel cans getting louder and louder. The people had been attracted to the light and warmth like moths.

"I didn't know we were having a party," Sara remarked caustically, looking downward.

"Indeed." Janine replied.

At the center of it all, Sam looked round. "Wow, were there so many people five minutes ago?"

"It's really filled up now, man." Jack exclaimed.

"Looks like we started a party," Eugene's eyes gleamed. "And you know what a party needs?"

He looked over at Jack and they said in unison, " **Music**!"

"You two read my minds," Ed said behind them, startling Sam. He stood behind them, looking happy, Molly clutching to his left pants leg, but giving them a small, wobbly smile. In his arms was a battered guitar that was nonetheless still well-strung.

"Aw yeah, now we're talkin'," Eugene crowed, high fiving Ed.

"Incidentally, do you have Bruce Wayne genes?" Sam asked as he sat next to them.

Molly warbled out, "Mama's song! Mamaaaa."

Ed ruffled her hair. "You got it, Mol."

By that time the roar had gotten from dim to surrounded by noise, but still, he stood, plucked a few chords and closed his eyes. Some people were standing, some were sitting on the grass; so nobody really paid attention, just kept talking.

" _I heard there was a secret chord_  
 _that David played and it pleased the Lord._  
 _But you don't really care for music, do ya?_  
 _Well it goes like this._  
 _The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift._  
 _The baffled king composing Hallelujah._

 _Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ "

On the words "the Lord", the sound went down, like the dial being turned to the left on a radio channel full of static. By the fourth, the hush had overwhelmed the crowd like high tide; they were silent, listening to him sing, as if enchanted. Radio Abel song requests were one thing; but Ed's rough, beautiful voice floating over them in person was another.

" _You know I used to live alone before I knew ya._  
 _I've seen your flag on the marble arch_  
 _and love is not a victory march._  
 _It's a cold, and it's a broken_  
 _Hallelujah..._ "

Sam, Eugene and Jack's voices rose together on the words, " _and love is not a victory march, it's a cold, and it's a broken hallelujah_ ", not knowing that Maxine, just a few paces behind them, was singing them too. None of them were particularly religious, but they'd heard this song enough times before. Runner 5 was somewhere even further behind, on the outskirts of the crowd, singing quietly. Runner 4 was somewhere ahead, just listening to the quality of the five voices joined together. It seemed too right, the song sad enough to somehow encapsulate the tragedy that had befallen them all. Sara found herself joining in the last verse, Janine looking at her, mouth slightly agape.

" _Well, maybe there's a God above._  
 _But all I've ever learned from love_  
 _Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya._  
 _And It's not a cry that you hear at night._  
 _It's not somebody who's seen the light._  
 _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah._ "

Sam's voice broke on the second last line, but his smile returned as he looked at his friends, the runners, as they continued to sing hallelujah. The kind of beauty that came with being alive seized him in the heart. He thought to himself, _Hope you're listening, Alice. You gave your life to protect them all and here they are, together._

Ed sang the last hallelujah and for a few seconds the song lingered in the air, and then Molly began to clap. Soon the whole crowd was clapping, albeit a little softly so as to not attract zombies, but you could still hear the applause. Someone in the back even whooped.

Ed bowed. "Ed Morrison, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be here all night. Any requests?" he asked. Eugene goes up to him and whispered a song title.

Jack elbowed him in the ribs when he jogged back, smiling, "Gosh, you are such a Beatles fanboy."

"I fail to see how that is a _bad_ thing," Eugene replied playfully.

"You got it," Ed said, laughing, and he started to sing, "Hey Jude," and a huge rabble rose. People began to grin, and when he began to sing, "Don't make it bad," the whole crowd went quiet, and then on "Take a sad song and make it better," a hundred people joined in. His head snapped up, shocked, but then the widest grin Sam'd seen on anyone since the apocalypse stretched over his face. Even Janine was singing now, albeit a little hesitantly, Sara swinging a casual arm over her shoulder and smiling a little at it all. Runner 7's baritone carried like nothing else and there was astonishment on everybody's faces when they heard it.

When they got to the chorus, "Na na na na na na na na, Hey Jude," their voices rose together, sending chills down everybody's backs. The few dozen people still in the housing leaned out of their windows to see what was going on and were treated to the sound of over 150 people singing Hey Jude together. They looked at each other, utterly shocked, then begin to laugh and sing themselves, their bodies leaning out of the windows, their waists resting on the frames, smiling despite themselves.

At the last verse Jack and Eugene raised their arms in the air, waved them like it was a concert, grinning.

" _Hey Jude, don't make it bad_  
 _Take a sad song and make it better_  
 _Remember to let her under your skin_  
 _Then you begin to make it better_  
 _Better, better, better, better, bett-AH, OH!_ "

Like they've heard it a hundred times before, each _better_ is louder than the last one, more urgent, excited, incredible. On the last one they all screamed together and it was the equivalent of a dam breaking, almost; people jumped up and pumped their fists up in the air excitedly, caught up in the breathless moment. There were a few couples dancing on the grass, looking happier than they'd been in a long time.

Something about it brought excited thrills in Runner 5 that she couldn't possibly have ever felt back in Mullins.

The joint sound of the entire township's voices coming together to mock the heavens they can't reach anymore, to mock the zombies, as if to raise the bird to all the gloom, to say  _you can't stop us from feeling alive, you can't stop what's coming to you._

The sky almost seems like it's been hung too low and their voices are large and loud enough to break the barricade separating them from singing to the stars. We're here, she thinks: the lyrics aren't what we're singing, it's this: we're here, and we're alive. We're here, together. And that's all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> musical!Abel is the best and this is the extended version of what I posted up on tumblr. Hope you guys like it.


End file.
